


Borrowed Time

by Solace (PenelopeGrace)



Series: The Slytherin Locket [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bad Dirty Talk, Bondage, Choking, Collars, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Foursome, Gangbang, Lemon, Lots of Dicks, Moresomes, Multi, Multiple Tom, Objectification, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Magic, Smut, Threesome, this is fucking trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 15:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15754293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenelopeGrace/pseuds/Solace
Summary: Seven years after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter goes missing. Hermione Granger is one of the first persons to look for him. When she tracks Harry down, what she finds will change her life and the wizarding world forever.





	Borrowed Time

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Tomione_Fest18](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Tomione_Fest18) collection. 



> This is trash.

When Harry disappeared seven years after the Battle of Hogwarts, right down to the very day, Hermione was one of the first to look for them. Unlike Ron or Ginny or the rest of the world, she used potions mixed with runes to look for him. She tracked him down to a little town in the countryside of Great Britain. It had a name once, but everyone has forgotten it by now. She followed the traces of his magical signature to what appeared to be a rundown manor.

Upon opening the unlocked front door, she knew she was dead wrong. It wasn't rundown at all. It was kept in good conditions, the rugs pressed and clean, the curtains hanging straight with no moth-bitten holes. Sunlight easily shone through the clear, uncracked, unbroken windows. Fancy chairs were placed in strategic locations around a fireplace to make the room cozy.

She turned quickly and saw a flash of blue light and then knew nothing at all.

"Ugh," she croaked. She slowly blinked her eyes open, feeling as if she had slept for a million years with her mouth open. Sitting up, she glanced around the room with a spectacular window of the gardens below. She noted she was placed upon a four-poster bed. She eyed the closed door and nearly got up when she saw the man sitting partially hidden behind the enormous vase of flowers.

"Harry," she breathed. "You're safe!"

He nervously pushed up his glasses. "Sorry, Hermione. I hit you. Didn't realize it was you." He gave her a golden cup. "This is water. The curse I used on you, Hermione. It's not pleasant. You'll need this."

She drank the entire cup, her tongue eagerly searching for every droplet of water she could find. It's not enough, but she felt much better than before. She placed the cup on the nightstand and turned back to Harry.

His hair was placed together neatly as always, and his light green eyes stared right at her. His wand of a phoenix tail feather twitched in his left hand. "Didn't expect anyone to find me."

"Of course, someone will find you. Everyone's looking for you. They thought you have been taken by some rogue Death Eaters or buried deep in a forest." She admonished, "You disappeared without saying a word or leaving a note!"

"I had to get away." He stood up, his feet moving him next to the window. He pensively stared out. "Every year since the Battle is always the same. I don't know how you and Ron or anyone else do it. People come up to me, congratulate me for ending the Dark Lord, But how can I be happy about the day where so many witches and wizards needlessly died? We won, sure, Hermione. But all I see are the memories and reminders that haunt me." He stepped next to Hermione, his hand reaching out and gently pulling down the collar of her shirt. His fingers brush by her scar. "Like this curse."

She shivered. It was a wayward Slicing Hex with some modifications that made the scar permanent. It was always slightly dull with pain, a cursed reminder for Hermione for what happened exactly seven years ago. But under Harry's touch, the pain was smoothed away into something surprisingly warm. Her stomach curled in delight, but she looked away from Harry. She moved away.

It was wrong. . . Their friendship was something more than this.

"Every time," he sighed. "Every try I make always ends up with you moving away. I wonder when you'll realize that you're the only one I ever want. Yet you keep pushing me away."

She blinked, surprised he was coming forth so straightforwardly. "You know our friendship matters more than some romance that might go well or might not. You have seen the way Neville's relationship with Ginny turned out. They barely talk anymore. We fell into bed many times before, and we always have to figure out where our normal is."

"Admit it, Hermione. You're scared of what might happen." His face was only inches away from hers. She realized it only took one little move to meet his lips.

"I'm not afraid of taking that leap." She remembered all of the mistletoe kisses. All of the New Year parties where he brushed by her. All of the moments when he touched her unnecessarily longer than social norm.

"You're scared after what happened with Viktor. Always pushing away."

She shivered. She remembered that night. The night he came to her with glassy eyes and firewhiskey on his lips and didn't seem to  _stop grasping at her skirts—_ But suddenly, Harry was there. And he was holding her so tight and kissing her forehead, swearing that no harm would ever come to her. He made love to her the first time that night.

"It won't happen to you, Hermione." A whisper. "I promise you'll want it."

She didn't have even a second to think before he was on her. His mouth pressed against her lips, his tongue asking for access. His fingers tickled her thigh and then pushed up her skirt. He vanished her knickers with a wave. She instinctively parted her legs. She had done this so many times with him before, but they were always so gentle and sweet and tender, as if she was made of glass. Now Harry was fierce, forceful. . .

Domineering.

She didn't know what to do think of it except that she liked it a lot more than before.

He chucked into her mouth. "Relax," he murmured. "You're thinking too much."

She settled, her back falling against the dark red comforters. Her hair spread, she moaned as Harry licked, nibbled, and  _oh, Merlin's beard,_ what was he doing was his fingers?

One of the most subtle details she discovered about Harry was how beautiful his hands were. They were long and much thicker than her own. Many times she had seen him using his fingers to gracefully pluck at piano keys or using them to twist around his wand.

And now his index finger was curling into her, exploring familiar waters. Pumping into her, mimicking thrusts. She tightened around him, her heart wanting more.

"So tight," he murmured. "You're perfect, Hermione."

Then he hit that right spot and again and again, and Hermione simply surrendered to him. She followed her instincts and pulled him down against her body. They are close. So close. But not close enough, she thought.

She wanted him inside of her. She parted her lips and groaned, egging Harry on, "Come on, Harry. I want you in me."

A flash of feral light glinted in Harry's eyes. He sat up on the bed. A single word dripped sweetly off his lips. "Beg." He smirked viciously at her as he held her over her edge.

"Please, Harry. I need more."

"With that filthy mouth you have."

Hermione paused. They had tried this once before, with Harry calling her all sorts of names. He was delighted by how wet each successive and worse insult made her, but she yelled at him to never do it again. It felt wrong somehow, because in her dreams. . .

But on this high and needing a simple push to send her over the edge, she complied without a second thought. "Rub your fingers into my cunt, Master."

So much like Harry, he withdrew his fingers and then mockingly wiped them on her skirt. "Now why should I reward a disobedient little slut like you?"

She shivered as his words sent goosebumps over her skin. The evidence of her arousal was spread before her, positively dripping, and it was laid before him for his eyes.

"I suppose you are only good for two things." He snaked up her legs and then teased her sensitive clit. "Your tight, dirty holes," he whispered. "And." A light spark of his magic pulsed directly at her clit.

And Hermione exploded, her denied orgasm rushing through her body as he purposely rubbed her clit. She gasped as Harry laughed. His warm breath on her cunt was sending delicious messages to her brain.

More, she thought. More, she needed.

He understood her without needing her to say a word. He started at the edges of her pussy, eating the evidence of her arousal slowly along her folds while the pressure in her begins to build up once again. She quickly grasped his hair, trying to force him to go harder.

He swatted her hands away. Slapping her thigh with a loud  _smack_ , Harry snapped his finger.

Instantly buckling from the sudden pain, Hermione cried out. Her hands were pulled by invisible ropes, which were tied to the bed poles. Her very toes curled in anticipation, agonizingly waiting.

"Whores don't get to touch their masters without permission." Then he went back to licking at her lips lazily, as if he had all the time in the world. He delighted in her constant pleas, but she now knew too well of how much he loved controlling her pleasure.

He stuck her tongue in her, slowly thrusting and absolutely torturing her mind. She tried to push herself against her, tugging against the rope binding her wrist, but it only made him slap her thigh again in warning.

She stilled, moaning at the glorious mixture of stinging pain and pleasure. At her submissive state, Harry upped his speed and sucked at her clit while his fingers curled inside her, scissoring her. He quietly mused, "I wonder how much you like pain."

She  _did not_  like the too-curious tone he possessed.

But her scream of pleasure washed away her concerns as he added a third finger and  _hit_  her just right. She sank deep into the blankets, panting hard as she watched the man between her legs rose from her cunt once more.

She squirmed as she watched him lick her juices off his fingers.

"What do you think?" Harry questioned.

Before she could answer, another voice piped up behind her. It was surprisingly smooth and in another time, Hermione might admit she could listen to that voice reading instructions on how to build a treehouse and come hard. "I think you need more practice. She wasn't begging hard enough. She was screaming so hard for me." An unknown hand placed a cold golden chain around Hermione's neck.

She stiffened.

Then the hand ran its knuckle down Hermione's exposed neck. Hermione's heart raced, and she subconsciously relaxed. She knew this hand. Had felt this locket around her neck before. Knew who he was.

"Voldemort," she whispered.

He leaned over her partially naked torso. The handsome young man with wild bright eyes and neatly mussled dark hair wore dark wizarding robes. Just like what he wore the last time she had seen him in her dreams. And every dream, she remembered, had her panting, screaming, squirming. . .

Begging.

"Slut," he said back, smiling. She had forgotten how beautiful he looked. His nails followed the path of locket. The Horcrux. But unlike what she felt 7 years ago, there was no life in the Horcrux. It was simply a locket. The old Slytherin locket. A cold piece of metal warmed by her rushing blood and needy body.

"My l—" she choked. The locket suddenly yanked at her neck.

"I come back to life for you, and I see another man's fingers deep inside of your greedy hole and you coming twice." He was a blurry outline above her, yet she could hear every word he said. "How many fingers did this little tramp take?"

"Three."

"Such a harlot. She needs to be punished," he commented, the locket releasing a little. Yet it was still digging into her neck.

But Hermione learned to breathe.

Harry lifted her legs up, her legs still parted for him.  _For them._  A warm cock brushed against her folds, easily sliding across her entrance, never actually entering her. Ignoring her weak whimpers, he rubbed his member between her legs. Against her cunt, never quite hitting that spot she needed so much.

"Planning to come all over her stomach?" asked Tom, still holding the chain down.

"Whores should be used."

"Good point," laughed the Dark Lord. "Come all over the silly Mudblood whore."

And Harry, oh, Harry moved harder, humping against her body, never actually using her hole but instead her legs and her sopping pussy to get himself off. She did not know how long he took, but between the intensive, deliberate brushes he sent at her clit and the electrified sparks of magic sending her nerves into a confused tailspin and the pressed feel of the locket barring her windpipe, she came shatteringly with a brokenly silent "My lord!" on her lips.

"Such a slut," Tom tsked, releasing the chain. "Coming three times without being stuffed with cocks. You're just waiting for us to use you as a cumdumpster."

Her eyes rolled back, her spine arching. Harry's cum was hot on her stomach, sticking to her blouse. She had forgotten about his profanity dictionary and the way he simply weaponized it against her, knowing how to prick every single nerve in her to set her on fire.

He laughed at her wanton display and then vanished the rest of her clothes with a shoo-shoo movement of his hand.

A finger dipped into her unattended hole, prodding at its entrance. "I never fucked her ass before," admitted Harry.

"I trained her very well before. Of course, 7 years without practice makes the best of whores sloppy." Tom moved around the bed, slowly pulling off his tie and then his cloak. Stripping off all his clothes. Hermione could not help but watch, entranced at his lean built and pale chest. His fingers untucked his shirt.

"What didn't you do with her?"

Hermione gasped as Harry's lubricated finger pushed past her ring of muscle. She forced herself to relax. She had done this before. Tom taught her this. He made small little thrusts when Hermione relaxed completely. There was a little pain, a little discomfort, but they all melted into this strange yet also familiar feeling of a different kind of pleasure building up.

Watching the scene with unhidden interest, Tom mockingly said, "Easier to list, I'll give you that. But why give away everything now?" Completely naked, he leaned over her and grinned at her. "Now to see if your breasts are as sensitive as I remember."

She closed her eyes, her mouth parted in an o as he suckled and pinched her nipples. He moved the chain around until the locket was presented between her breasts. The lightest of touches sent shivers down her body. Harry kept teasing her asshole, and Tom was sure to leave bruises on her breasts again.

"I'm offended you sorry lot didn't wait for me."

Hermione's eyes snapped open. She tilted her head towards the source of that familiar voice to see another naked yet stunning handsome Dark Lord smirking wildly at Harry and the other Dark Lord.

"What's going on here?" She gasped, overwhelmed by the fact that three men were surrounded her. Two of them were Dark Lord copies, and all in all, she could not stop clenching and unclenching her empty cunt, which was dripping in pure anticipation. She knew it, they knew it, and she knew they were all thirsty  _for her_.

"Nothing, slut." Releasing her tender breasts, Tom broke the spell Harry set on her wrists. Laying down, he ordered, "On top. Now, you silly cunt."

Harry's finger slipped out of her ass, and she climbed over to straddle Tom's legs. She gasped as Harry guided her forward over Tom's swollen member. Gliding through her sopping wet pussy, Tom enclosed both of her wrists. Her hole stretched to accommodate his dick.

The new Tom stood up on the bed, his cock in front of her nose. She had a brief moment to examine his length. It was the exact copy of the Tom she knew in her dreams, right down to the very vein. She opened her lips and rolled her tongue around his slit. Trying to tease him.

She was forced to take more of his length when Harry suddenly put cold liquid on her backside. She jumped in shock, the Tom underneath her holding her from moving her position. Hands around her head kept her eyes on the Tom in front of her. She was completely unable to move on her own accord and she loved every second of being overwhelmed by the power of her masters. She could not get enough.

"Still tight," muttered Harry.

"You should ruin that hole." New Tom pulled her head forward. "Like how I'm going to ruin her pretty mouth."

He kept her in the same position, just simply fucking her mouth like that was all she was good for. Just a simple fuckhole. Tom underneath her repeatedly thrusted upwards, sending delicious pleasure across her nerves. Harry fingered her ass, pushing one finger. And then two. Tom's cock in her cunt felt bigger as Harry's fingers stretched her ass.

She came with her hips buckling, shaking as magic, literally magic, coursed through her veins.

Tom slipped his cock out of his mouth and slapped it across her face. Then again. "Such a slut. Coming before her masters and taking pleasure for herself."

"You come before the three of us do, cunt, and I will take you down the dungeon and give you all the pleasure you want." The tone of his voice told her it will not be pleasant.

"I think her ass is ready." Harry slowly pulled out his fingers. "She can take three now."

The cock rammed through her mouth again, and she had to slowly breathed with tearstained eyes as she glanced pleadedly at the Dark Lord standing above her, trying to breathe. Harry pushed his cock through her asshole, pressing up against Tom's prick in her cunt.

"Fuck, so tight," said Harry.

"Yes," hissed Tom.

Then they began to move.

It was too much. The rhythm was intense. The three cocks in her were in sync. The cold locket swayed in front of her like a chain. Both Toms thrusted up when Harry held her hips and pulled out a little. Then when Harry thrusted in, both Toms moved out. They were not interested in her pleasure but their own.

And Hermione would be lying if she said she wasn't tempted to come right there. But she held back, holding back her own pleasure. Blowing hard on Tom's cock to send him over the edge first. But he only gripped her hair harder.

Harry was the first to come first, shooting streams of cum deep inside her backside. Despite preparing her, she was still too tight for him to handle. Invigorated, Hermione tightened her muscles around the Tom she was bouncing on. He came with a grunt, shooting his load into her womb. It was a struggle to make the new Tom come while the Tom underneath her let go of her wrists and shifted his hands to her hips, partially covering Harry's hands. They forced her to keep milking them for what she was worth.

Her vulnerable gaze stared up at Tom, whose glacial eyes could chill even the sun. He pounded into her, seeking only his own release. When his cum spurted onto her tongue and she tasted its salty, tantalizing flavor, she didn't hear her next order until he slapped her face. She was unbelievably on the edge, trying to hold herself off.

"Didn't even hear me. So lost in her thoughts with all the cum in you. You like that, Mudblood," he taunted, pulling his dick out with an obscene  _pop_. He spoke mockingly slow. "Swallow." New Tom jumped off the bed with ease, his commanding tone sending shivers down her spine. There was a threat in there, yes.

Fuck, she swallowed it all down with a hungry gulp and her channel clenched harder as she lowered herself into both cocks. A little drop of saliva and cum formed at the corner of her mouth. Her pink tongue slipped out and licked it away to the relentless cold gaze of the Tom standing before her. Angling her slightly forward so they could thrust even deeper into her with an iron-like grip, Harry and Tom sent her spiraling into her release. She fell over Tom, her breasts squished against her chest. Harry slipped out of her ass with ease.

Barely awake, Hermione's eyes flitted to the floor. Her eyes widened at the black painted floor. The lines snaked in an odd shape Hermione didn't recognize.

Merlin, she thought. She was in a ritual. For something perverted, she was certain. She pointed at the lines. "What is that for?"

Harry spanked her ass, watching it turn a lovely shade of angry red.

Tom whispered into her ear. "Nothing for a dumb Mudblood to worry about."

Then they moved her around again, pulling her off of Tom's length. She gasped as she was placed on top of another body, her muscles protesting every move. This time she was leaning back as the cold version of Tom entered her behind. Harry forced her down completely, her weight fully resting against Tom.

The other Tom, the one who knew and met in her darkest dreams when she wore the locket, pushed deep into her other hole. He angled his cock to hit right at that spot he was so familiar with that would send her wild and begging for more. Once again, the pressure of having two cocks inside of her blew her mind away along with all common sense. She needed it. Wanted it so bad. More than anything she had ever wanted or needed before.

Harry laid beside her, pulling her small hand to enclosed his cock. "Stroke me."

She gave the best handjob she could in this position, needing to stretch her fingers around the girth of his member. The men in her began to move, both entering and pulling at the same time. The Tom of the locket hit that spot every time, but she could not come.

It had to be magic. The only way they could attack her senses at the same time so smoothly and wickedly. The Tom underneath her bit at her shoulders, and she threw her head back, her eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy. But her release was held back by something. By their wills, she knew.

Only they decided when she could come, only they decided what she could feel, only  _he_  decided what she would be. And it was everything she ever wanted.

Harry played around her clit, never actually letting her get off. He told her, "The ritual is called  _Amat sanitatem_." He pulled out his wand and unleashed a forceful vibration straight at her abused clit.

She shouted, both from the intense spark of magic Harry sent at her clit and the name of the ritual. Magic released from her every pore once again, the men lapping up every single drop of magic she produced in her climax.

She had read about this ritual in Dark tomes.  _Amat sanitatem_  was a ritual involving two participants: a source and the receiver. The person who set up the ritual would be the receiver of the magic sex emits. They would essentially gain strength from the source in aftershocks of an orgasm. It was especially draining and dangerous for the source. This ritual was a favorite for Dark witches and wizards.

The source, willing or unwilling, usually ended up being destroyed by the ritual. Either he or she burned out in a magical explosion. Or if they survived, they ended up being bound to the wizard or witch as a permanent source. Magically binding. Just as restrictive as the Unbreakable Vow.

She shivered, somehow growing even wetter at the thought of being his forever. Theirs forever. She frowned at that thought. "But this ritual only can involve two people."

"That's right," said Tom, pulling away from her shoulder. "Why don't we really introduce ourselves? I'm the Slytherin locket." He went back to nipping at her shoulder, his hips rocking her. She let out a moan at the subtle pleasure building inside.

"The cup you stabbed with the fang, you bitch," grunted the other Tom, slamming hard into her. Hermione whimpered, and it was clear in her eyes that he reveled in her fear.

Harry smirked, tilting his head at her. His face blurred in front of her, losing the softness of his cheeks and changing into another Dark Lord copy. "Harry has been dead for over a decade, Hermione dearest. He died that night in the Chamber of Secrets. I'm the diary. Been playing Harry Potter, the great Chosen One, for so many years." He cruelly jeered, "It was always me inside of you. Always me with you. Always me no matter who you turn to, Hermione. It's time for you and the world to know you have all been living on borrowed time."

"And I'm ring," introduced a new voice. "Sorry for being so late."

"Oh, Merlin's fucking—"

Hermione suddenly choked as the ring decided to Apparate and shove his cock through her mouth. She tasted a little bit of precum, breathing through her nose as her eyes widened in shock at the man standing above her. Her heart pounded so hard that she was sure she was going to explode. Three cocks were abusing every single one of her holes while the diary bruised the delicate flesh around her nipples and poked determinedly with the tip of his wand. She held the diary's length in her hand, pumping it desperately as they tortured her. As he tortured her. She arched helplessly as she hit her peak once more, blackness rising up in her vision.

And then she knew nothing more.

When the three other Toms merged into the diary, he knew the ritual was over. The process had been completed. He flexed his arm, gathering up his magic. He laughed in joy as his magic and body was restored completely. His magic, actually, was more than restored. It was multiplied in power and reservoir.

He looked down at the naked witch beside him on the bed. She had all the appearances of a well-used whore. Cum dripped out of her gaping holes, and her mouth was open. His knuckle followed the lines of her jaw and then traveled down her neck. Her heartbeat thumped steadily.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he pulled back and smirked. "My slut." With a wave of his hand, the chain of Slytherin locket morphed into a silver collar fitted snug against her neck. The locket was held by a single keyring, resting on Hermione's chest. The S proudly glimmered, completely restored to its former glory.

"For eternity."

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be in hell. Bye.


End file.
